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A persuasive depiction of the tempestuous affair of two 20th-century titans, Jan Kounen’s “Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky” comes closer than most films to capturing the selfish competitive passion of egomaniacal geniuses locked in erotic combat.
Arrogant and thin-skinned, with hooded eyes and a wary demeanor, Mads Mikkelsen’s Stravinsky has music exploding in his head almost faster than he can transcribe it to the page. Anna Mouglalis’s Chanel, with her imperious carriage, deep voice and a hard gaze that could bore a hole into you, suggests a mannish Ava Gardner on the rampage. To those who work at her fashion house, she is an unremittingly severe taskmaster. You can understand the mutual fascination of these two, each of whom is more than a little monstrous. Their biggest similarity, both acknowledge, is that the sources of their creativity are the vibrations of notes and the feel of fabric, not ideas worked out on paper.
Chanel is the aggressor in the short-lived affair of which little is known, that began in 1920, seven years after she attended the world premiere of Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring.” That notorious opening, May 29, 1913, at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris, erupted into a riot as audience members, outraged by Stravinsky’s dissonant, harshly pulsing music and Vaslav Nijinsky’s primitive choreography, angrily vented their disapproval. Fights broke out, the police were called, and Stravinsky sank into sulky despondence.
That historic night is re-enacted with electrifying force in the movie’s opening set piece. Both the music and the recreated choreography convey the jarring impact of this invasion of disruptive sound and movement on a polite haute-bourgeois culture accustomed to Tchaikovsky’s romantic ballets.
After its opening salvo, the movie narrows its focus to the treacherous psychology of a relationship that begins when the already successful Chanel invites the still impecunious Stravinsky and his family to stay in her villa outside Paris. World War I, perfunctorily dispensed with in an abrupt, unsatisfying montage of old newsreels, has already come and gone.
The rest of the film is cool, elegant and sexy, with scrupulously detailed Art Deco design and shadowy lighting that lends many of the scenes a painterly depth. But the film — adapted from Chris Greenhalgh’s novel, with a screenplay written by the author with the director and Carlo de Boutiny — never regains that initial blast of energy and the final scenes wobble toward a wishy-washy ending.
But for the fact that Stravinsky and his wife, Catherine (Elena Morozova), speak Russian, this mainly French-language film barely makes note of his Russian origins. Chanel’s past is left even vaguer. In her only vulnerable moments, she is seen shedding tears over the recent death of her English boyfriend, Boy Capel.
Stravinsky, at once grateful and resentful of Chanel’s hospitality, drags Catherine and their four children to Chanel’s home, where there are servants and a studio with a grand piano. During their affair, conducted under the nose of Catherine, the lovers make only token attempts to conceal their passion. When Catherine eventually confronts her hostess and asks if she feels any guilt, Chanel bluntly replies no. Stravinsky is cagier. When asked if he has slept with Chanel, there is a long pause and finally no reply.
Even before the affair, Stravinsky’s marriage has lost its bloom. Catherine suffers from tuberculosis and has a vision of herself as an animal rotting from the inside. But she has the advantage of being Stravinsky’s most trusted creative adviser. Ms. Morozova gives a subtle, understated portrait of a betrayed wife sorrowfully making the best of an excruciating situation, as she waits for the relationship to run its course.
In its heedless affront to bourgeois sensibilities, the relationship of Stravinsky and Chanel mirrors the revolutionary spirit of “The Rite of Spring,” as does Chanel’s preference for stark black-and-white. Like the dancers in “The Rite of Spring,” spasmodically responding to seasonal cycles, the lovers allow passion to pre-empt propriety as they follow nature’s way. The sex scenes, although moderately heated, have none of the biting and clawing urgency of uncontrollable animal heat. Even in bed, or on the piano bench on which Chanel straddles Stravinsky, mind games are being played.
Always there is the power struggle of parallel careers conducted with a driven, single-minded fervor by artists at the peak of their creativity. Although the movie visits Chanel’s workshop, it devotes more time to the meticulous creation of her signature perfume, Chanel No. 5.
The emotional turning point comes during a little tiff when their egos suddenly lock horns, and Stravinsky contemptuously dismisses Chanel’s profession as next to nothing compared to his. Their affair continues, but its days are numbered.
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Rare footage of the genius composer...
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A persuasive depiction of the tempestuous affair of two 20th-century titans, Jan Kounen’s “Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky” comes closer than most films to capturing the selfish competitive passion of egomaniacal geniuses locked in erotic combat.
Arrogant and thin-skinned, with hooded eyes and a wary demeanor, Mads Mikkelsen’s Stravinsky has music exploding in his head almost faster than he can transcribe it to the page. Anna Mouglalis’s Chanel, with her imperious carriage, deep voice and a hard gaze that could bore a hole into you, suggests a mannish Ava Gardner on the rampage. To those who work at her fashion house, she is an unremittingly severe taskmaster. You can understand the mutual fascination of these two, each of whom is more than a little monstrous. Their biggest similarity, both acknowledge, is that the sources of their creativity are the vibrations of notes and the feel of fabric, not ideas worked out on paper.
Chanel is the aggressor in the short-lived affair of which little is known, that began in 1920, seven years after she attended the world premiere of Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring.” That notorious opening, May 29, 1913, at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris, erupted into a riot as audience members, outraged by Stravinsky’s dissonant, harshly pulsing music and Vaslav Nijinsky’s primitive choreography, angrily vented their disapproval. Fights broke out, the police were called, and Stravinsky sank into sulky despondence.
That historic night is re-enacted with electrifying force in the movie’s opening set piece. Both the music and the recreated choreography convey the jarring impact of this invasion of disruptive sound and movement on a polite haute-bourgeois culture accustomed to Tchaikovsky’s romantic ballets.
After its opening salvo, the movie narrows its focus to the treacherous psychology of a relationship that begins when the already successful Chanel invites the still impecunious Stravinsky and his family to stay in her villa outside Paris. World War I, perfunctorily dispensed with in an abrupt, unsatisfying montage of old newsreels, has already come and gone.
The rest of the film is cool, elegant and sexy, with scrupulously detailed Art Deco design and shadowy lighting that lends many of the scenes a painterly depth. But the film — adapted from Chris Greenhalgh’s novel, with a screenplay written by the author with the director and Carlo de Boutiny — never regains that initial blast of energy and the final scenes wobble toward a wishy-washy ending.
But for the fact that Stravinsky and his wife, Catherine (Elena Morozova), speak Russian, this mainly French-language film barely makes note of his Russian origins. Chanel’s past is left even vaguer. In her only vulnerable moments, she is seen shedding tears over the recent death of her English boyfriend, Boy Capel.
Stravinsky, at once grateful and resentful of Chanel’s hospitality, drags Catherine and their four children to Chanel’s home, where there are servants and a studio with a grand piano. During their affair, conducted under the nose of Catherine, the lovers make only token attempts to conceal their passion. When Catherine eventually confronts her hostess and asks if she feels any guilt, Chanel bluntly replies no. Stravinsky is cagier. When asked if he has slept with Chanel, there is a long pause and finally no reply.
Even before the affair, Stravinsky’s marriage has lost its bloom. Catherine suffers from tuberculosis and has a vision of herself as an animal rotting from the inside. But she has the advantage of being Stravinsky’s most trusted creative adviser. Ms. Morozova gives a subtle, understated portrait of a betrayed wife sorrowfully making the best of an excruciating situation, as she waits for the relationship to run its course.
In its heedless affront to bourgeois sensibilities, the relationship of Stravinsky and Chanel mirrors the revolutionary spirit of “The Rite of Spring,” as does Chanel’s preference for stark black-and-white. Like the dancers in “The Rite of Spring,” spasmodically responding to seasonal cycles, the lovers allow passion to pre-empt propriety as they follow nature’s way. The sex scenes, although moderately heated, have none of the biting and clawing urgency of uncontrollable animal heat. Even in bed, or on the piano bench on which Chanel straddles Stravinsky, mind games are being played.
Always there is the power struggle of parallel careers conducted with a driven, single-minded fervor by artists at the peak of their creativity. Although the movie visits Chanel’s workshop, it devotes more time to the meticulous creation of her signature perfume, Chanel No. 5.
The emotional turning point comes during a little tiff when their egos suddenly lock horns, and Stravinsky contemptuously dismisses Chanel’s profession as next to nothing compared to his. Their affair continues, but its days are numbered.
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Rare footage of the genius composer...
[YOUTUBE]<object width="660" height="525"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/5tGA6bpscj8&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/5tGA6bpscj8&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="660" height="525"></embed></object>[/YOUTUBE]
